Here is the Place Where I Love You
by ExceedinglyPeculiarChick
Summary: In which Katniss and Peeta receive a very unexpected surprise, and Haymitch argues with Gale. A lot.
1. Peeta Was Right

My whole body feels numb, and nothing is comprehensible to me. Even though I'm only wearing a thin shirt and slippers, I stumble down the stairs and shove open the front door into the falling snow. Trudging across the courtyard to Haymitch's house, I am about to knock on the door when it opens before me.

"Katniss? What's wrong, sweetheart?" Haymitch asks, concern wrinkling his forehead. When I don't answer, he grips me by the elbow and steers me into the house. My slippers are soaked through, leaving puddles of slush on the newly waxed floors. Hazelle must have been here earlier, for everything is shiny and clean. Haymitch sits me down at the table and crouches down until his face is level with mine. "What is the matter, Katniss?"

"Haymitch, I… I'm… well, Peeta was right."

"What?" I can tell by the look on his face that this hasn't sunk in. Then it hits him. "Oh, God, Katniss. You absolutely can _not _be pregnant."

"No, Haymitch. I am," I say, and I break down. He rubs me awkwardly between the shoulder blades while I cry myself out, and helps me sit up when I'm done.

"Katniss, it's all right. How long have you known?"

"Th—three months," I choke out.

"Okay, so that's nine weeks. Not too bad. Does Peeta know?"

"No."

"I want you to go home and tell him now. He really does need this—he's been so depressed lately," Haymitch says, and takes a swig from a bottle on the counter behind him.

"Why?" I want to know.

"Because of you, Katniss. You're withdrawn from everyone, barely talking to him, and scaring him to death. He needs some good news."

"How is this remotely good news?" I demand, trying to spring up from my chair; Haymitch has other ideas and shoves me back down into the chair with a not-so-gentle touch.

"Katniss, you're going to have a _baby_," Haymitch says, clearly enunciating the word _baby. _"You should be incredibly happy that you and Peeta can start this new chapter in your life together. There are no more Games. He or she will be safe, whatever the situation is when it's born. I promise you that."

"Thank you, Haymitch," I say, the tears starting to fall again. He gets up and hugs me warmly, patting my back as he does so.

"Good luck, Katniss," he whispers.

_I'm going to need it._


	2. Kiss the Chef

Peeta is standing in the kitchen, mixing a bowl of what appears to be red frosting. Only when I look closer, I see that it's tinged with orange and yellow and even some hints of blue here and there. And it glitters—literally shining under the overhead lights. Just like my dress did for that interview so long ago.

"Peeta?" I poke my head around the door.

"Hey, love. How was your day?" He takes a flat knife from a drawer and lays it on the counter, then turns to pick up a beautiful cake from the open oven.

"Fine," I say, walking over to him and stretching up on my toes to wrap my arms around his neck. I untie his frilly pink KISS THE CHEF apron and hang it on the wall. (Finnick gave it to us as a wedding gift; apparently Annie's talented at embroidery. Nevertheless, he thought it was hilarious.)

"Is something wrong, Katniss? Your eyes are all red," Peeta says.

Damn. Knew I forgot something. "Uh, yeah," I say, glancing back at Haymitch for support but only receiving a _you—got—yourself—into—this—mess—get—yourself—out—of—it_ look, "I have to tell you something…"

"Tell me, then, silly!" he laughs, pressing his lips to my cheek.

"Do you think you were right? When you told the country that I was pregnant?"

"It was more a publicity thing. Why?" he asks. When I fix him with a look that must be halfway between happy and scared, he finally understands.

"Oh, wow, oh, Katniss. Really? This is amazing. I can't express how happy I really, truly am. How far are you? Is it a boy or a girl? Does anyone know yet?" I keep expecting him to start jumping up and down like a little girl.

"Um, nine weeks, I don't know yet, and only Haymitch so far. Please, Peeta," I add, laughing as I try to stop his bouncing, "you're going to hurt me."

"This is _fabulous_," he says, and literally strikes a pose; I mean hands—on—hips—modeling—pose. Haymitch, unfortunately, decides that this would be an ideal moment for him to walk in. And so it's this way that my mother finds us, collapsed in laughing heaps against the counters and walls, with Peeta's KISS THE CHEF apron still hanging on the wall.


	3. It's a Girl

[Peeta's POV]

The bell sounds at the bakery door just as I'm pulling another batch of cheese buns from the oven. When I step outside, I find Delly Cartwright pacing around in front of the counter. Opening the back of the display case, I ask, "What's wrong, Delly?"

"It's Katniss," she says urgently. "Haymitch sent me over here—he says you're to go home at once."

I drop the rest of the cheese buns haphazardly onto the display platter. Leaving the metal tray on the counter, I sprint for the door.

When I get home, Haymitch is stalking back and forth in front of my house nervously. Several black cars are parked in the square as well. When Haymitch sees me, he jogs over.

"Listen, Peeta. She just collapsed—it was bad. They're saying that something about the arena messed her up, and her body's not handling the baby right. She could miscarry," he says in a low, strained tone.

"Where is she?" I ask frantically, my voice the exact opposite of his.

"They've got her lying down. Peeta, she needs you more than anything right now. You have to be there for her. She can't be strong for herself anymore."

[Katniss' POV]

When I wake up, it's in a darkened room—my bedroom, I come to realize. I'm only vaguely aware that there's someone else in the room with me, their even breaths coming from somewhere beside me. A cool hand runs across my forehead, and a voice whispers, "Katniss, please come back to me. I need you."

I struggle to open my eyes and sit up, but the hand lowers me back to the pillows.

I look up to see Peeta beside me, his blue eyes welling with concern. He pushes a few damp strands of hair from my face and takes my cold hand in his.

"When did you get here?" I whisper.

"Only a few minutes ago. Katniss, they want to do something called an ultrasound on you, to see if anything's wrong with the baby."

"Who's doing it?"

"Dr. Aurelius. They figured you'd trust him."

"They figured right," I say, and a hint of a smile plays across Peeta's lips. Suddenly he turns toward the door as Dr. Aurelius walks in, wheeling a large monitor behind him.

"Hello, Katniss and Peeta," he says in a friendly tone. "Katniss, I'm going to use this to see inside your uterus. Don't worry—it won't hurt." He holds up a little white box with a cord that connects to the monitor. Then he pulls back the blankets and pulls up my shirt, leaving my abdomen exposed. He swabs it with some kind of gel and places the box on top, moving it around a bit.

I squeeze Peeta's hand tightly, scared of what the doctor might find, when the monitor is suddenly scored with flecks of black and gray and white. Dr. Aurelius looks intently at the picture for a few moments before turning back to us.

"Well, your baby appears to be doing all right. Katniss, by the way, I want you on strict bed rest until this baby is born. Peeta, you are my Peacekeeper here. She is not to get up unless it's absolutely necessary. Understand?"

We both nod agreement, silent tears of joy streaming down both our faces.

"Oh, by the way," Dr. Aurelius says on his way out, "it's a girl."


	4. Uncle Gale

A/N: This is for the Team Gale fans... Enjoy! :)

Darkness still presses against the windows when I wake up. According to the clock on the nightstand, it's six in the morning, and the baby has decided she's going to use me as a punching bag. This is when I notice that Peeta is gone. Against Dr. A's rules, I get up (with some difficulty since I'm now about the size of a beached whale) and meander downstairs to look for him. Peeta's nowhere to be found—not in the kitchen, living room, nowhere.

I'm beginning to get nervous when I round the corner to the front hallway and run smack into a person I never thought I'd see again.

Gale is just as handsome as ever, with the same gray eyes and strong jawbone. He's wearing a suit, which looks out of place against our cozy furniture and my so-called "outfit"—one of Peeta's old shirts and some loose pants. It's actually really funny.

"Well, Catnip, clearly I can't trust you two alone," Gale says, looking down at me.

"Gale, stop being mean," I say, swatting at his shoulder with about as much force as a fly.

"You say that like it's possible," he says, and I half-smile.

"So how's District Two?" I ask once we're seated on the living room couch. After only five minutes on my feet, they're already sore. Just like my back. And my legs. This pregnancy stuff really takes it out of you.

"Fine. Boring. It's a lot like the Capitol, really, except the people look normal."

"Nice. And what are you doing there?"

"Just some stuff."

"You're great at using adjectives," I say sarcastically. I can see this conversation isn't going anywhere, so I change the subject. "Where's Peeta?"

"He tactfully removed himself from the house so that I could come talk to you. I believe he's checking to see if Haymitch has lit himself on fire yet."

I give a derisive snort. "Given the amount of alcohol he's consumed lately, he probably has."

After a few minutes of silence, Gale speaks. "Do I look old enough to be an uncle to you?"

"I value my life too much to answer that." And suddenly we're both laughing and I realize something: I can still be friends with Gale, even though I chose Peeta. We have too much history together to throw it all away.

Maybe it's time for the girl on fire to change a little bit.

But change can be a good thing.

Fixed it. Sorry, guys! :) 


	5. Best Frenemies

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH to the people who have been reviewing and putting me and this story on alert! It means so much to me, you guys. You totally rock. Anyway, my computer is still being weird. Sometimes I have internet and sometimes I don't. I will try as hard as I can to get chapter six up by Wednesday, Friday at the latest. It's going to be a LONG chapter, so just bear with me here. Once again, thanks so much and I hope you enjoy! :)

Our house is very busy as I start nearing my due date. Gale and my mother are staying with us, and Haymitch often swings by to check in. Even Annie is here with her son. While normally I wouldn't like so many people hovering over me, I'm too huge and too exhausted to really care. At thirty weeks, I can't even see my feet when I stand up.

I'm laying in bed with Peeta one night when a thought suddenly occurs to me. "Peeta, what are we going to name her?".

"Whatever you want," he says. Then he looks at me. "Do you want to name her after Prim?".

"That's kind of what I was thinking," I say, "but I don't want their names to be exactly the same.".

Peeta thinks for a moment. Then he smiles. "What about naming her Rose?" -"

"I love it," I say.

And when he and I drift into sleep that night, I'm strangely happy, for what feels the first time in a long time.

Dr. Aurelius drops by about three weeks later to explain to me and Peeta how everything will work when the baby is born. I mostly just tune it out because I don't care about anything other than the fact that I'll be in a lot of pain. After the man finally leaves, I settle down on the couch for a much-needed nap. Peeta sits in a chair nearby, his eyes trained on the front window.

I'm still awake when I hear the door open. Not wanting to give myself away, I deepen my breathing and keep my eyes closed.

"Is she alseep?" asks a gruff voice. Gale.

"Yeah," Peeta says. "What's up?".

"Nothing. I just wanted to talk.

Oh, yeah, Gale, that's going to work. What could you possibly want to talk to him about that won't end with Haymitch breaking up a fight?

"I know you probably think I hate you because she chose you over me. But that's not true. When I think rationally about it, I'd only fuel her temper. You're the one she really needs. And one more thing, Peeta—I'm sick of being your enemy. Let's just put the whole thing behind us."

As quickly as he came in, Gale retreats from the room and I hear the door slam.

Well, that certainly went better than expected. No fighting, no Haymitch, and Gale and Peeta are sort-of friends. Little Rosie really is changing everything.

But like I said before, change can be a good thing. 


	6. Rose Mellark, the Wonder Baby

A/N: Again, thank you guys for the wonderful reviews! You're all so supportive and it makes me feel great! Anyway, salvation has arrived in the form of my iPad, so I can keep updating even while my crappy computer is broken. I'm doing the next chapter now—and this is the big exciting one!—because I have FINALS this week. :( If I can find the time to update, I will, but if I can't, chapter seven isn't going to be up until next Tuesday. Thanks—EPC

Peeta's POV

I wake up one night several weeks after Gale's heart-to-heart with me (I have to admit that it was a little bit awkward) to find that Katniss isn't in bed. Since she's not supposed to be up, this worries me. I jump out of bed, taking a moment to balance myself on my good leg, and begin the search for Katniss.

The search doesn't last very long—I find Katniss pacing around the bathroom in obvious pain. Add that to the fact that she's thirty-nine weeks pregnant and absolutely HUGE, and I'm instantly worried.

"Katniss, what's the matter?" I ask gently.

"Contractions," she hisses through clenched teeth, squeezing her eyes shut.

"What?" I cry. "I thought she wasn't due for another week!"

"Peeta, will you just calm the hell down and go get my mother? Your hysteria isn't helping me mentally prepare for the feat that I am about to perform, which involves pushing a watermelon through a hole the size of an egg." She says this in a voice that is so deadly calm that it takes me by surprise.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

"GO, Peeta!" she orders, and I do.

I meet Katniss' mother in the square outside. "What's going on?" she asks. "I saw lights on in your house."

I barely have time to get out the word "baby" before a look of understanding dawns on her and she dashes for the house.

My next stop is Haymitch's house, where Gale, Annie, and Haymitch are all sitting up around the kitchen table.

"You're not staying with her?" Gale asks, automatically assuming Katniss has gone into labor.

"We decided it would be better for our long-term relationship if I didn't have to hear her call me all sorts of names for several hours straight." I say.

Haymitch snorts into his bottle of liquor. "Katniss is a peach."

Annie gives me a reassuring smile. "Just don't think about it too much. You know she'll be fine. She's not the only woman ever to have a baby."

And so it's this way we sit, while Katniss goes through hell, and Gale regales us with a funny story from District Two about a Capitol client of his who came to a meeting with him wearing nothing but a dress made of multicolored feather boas sewn together.

There's a knock on the front door, and Dr. Aurelius rushes into the kitchen. "I've only just arrived... is she in the house?" When I nod, he dashes right back out again.

"I've only just had those walls fixed, and here's that idiot flinging doors open left and right," growls Haymitch, thumping the empty liquor bottle on the table for emphasis.

It seems like it's been several days when Dr. Aurelius walks back into the kitchen. "Congratulations, Peeta! A healthy baby girl, and she weighs eight pounds."

"Can I go now?" I ask him, and he nods. As I step out into the chilly night air (it's only two in the morning), I'm practically bouncing up and down. This marks the start of the next great adventure.

Katniss' POV

I'm transfixed by the beauty of the little baby I hold in my arms. While her eyes are closed, I can see that her hair will be dark brown, just like mine. She sighs contentedly in her sleep, and at this moment the door opens.

"Oh, Katniss, is she really ours? Do we really get to keep her?" Peeta breathes. I can't help laughing because both the expression on his face and his tone of voice resemble that of a toddler begging his parents for a pet.

"We better get to keep her, after what I went through to get her here."

"Was it really bad?" he asks.

"Bad? I used ever single curse word I could think of, and a couple even my mother had never heard before."

He grimaces. "Katniss, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. What matters is that she's here now." I push myself up on the pillows and hold Rose out to Peeta. "She's your daughter too."

She fits so naturally in his arms, it's unbelievable. I'm looking at big, strong, stocky Peeta holding our delicate little angel of a daughter, and yet it looks so right. He reaches down with one thumb and brushes it across Rose's forehead. "Hi, Rosie. This is Daddy. Mommy and I love you so, so much."

Rose opens her eyes at the sound of Peeta's voice, and his face lights up. He looks at me, awestruck. "Katniss, her eyes are just like mine!"

"Yeah, we're both there," I say. I look at Rose and see her eyes for the first time—clear, deep blue. Just like Peeta.

"She's so amazing," he says, lookimg at me again. "Katniss, have I ever told you how much I love you?"

I grin evilly at him. "Maybe once or twice."

Haymitch comes in to visit later. When he gets a good look at Rose, he smiles. "I just found a new person to call 'sweetheart'. She really is adorable," he says.

"Wow, she broke through to you THAT fast? She's good," I say, while Peeta has assumed a kneeling position on the floor, saying, "I am not worthy, I am not worthy, I am not worthy..."

Haymitch mimes kicking him before saying, "Congratulations, kids," and sidling out of the room.

With Rosie in her crib for her first night and Peeta beside me once again, I feel that same strange happiness I felt before. Babies do have a way of getting through to people.

Who knows? Maybe she'll work on Gale. 


	7. Bread Boy's Birthday

A/N: I'm ignoring the crapload of stuff I have to do and updating on here instead because I'd much rather be around you guys than locked up in my room with a textbook...or two...or ten. :( Anyway, just wanted to let you guys know: this story is going to have two more chapters before I complete it and move on to the sequel, which should have the first chapter up the same day that this fic's last chapter is published. Wow...the time has just flown! Thanks for reviewing and favoriting (is that even a word?) and just generally being so freaking awesome. Feel free to include anything you want to see as I wrap up this story in your reviews! Enjoy :)

Katniss' POV

I sneak back inside after a hunting trip with Gale, my game bag loaded down with all sorts of food, and furtively check to make sure Peeta isn't home. Once I've established that he isn't, I yell, "SAE!"

"In the kitchen, Katniss!" she calls.

Gale and I enter the kitchen and instantly are enveloped in billowing clouds of steam. Whatever Sae's cooking is making my mouth water.

We've decided to throw Peeta a surprise birthday party; everyone from the rebellion who is fortunately still alive is making an appearance. Gale and I are providing the game, and Delly is making Peeta's cake. It promises to be a fun night.

Haymitch arrives at that moment. "Hey, girl on fire! What do you want me to do to help?"

"Hey, mentor man. Can you go get Rose?"

He scowls at the nickname, but turns and stomps upstairs.

Gale shakes his head. "Wow, Katniss. Just...wow."

Haymitch returns, holding Rose. He looks at her. "You've got nothing on her, Katniss. I wonder just how she got to be this pretty."

Gale laughs. "Peeta begs to differ."

"Can you both just shut up?" I snap irritably.

"Whoa, hormonal victor alert. Better look out, guys!" calls Sae from behind another column of steam.

"If you burn the house down, YOU can explain it to Peeta," says Haymitch, mimicking my tone of voice.

Just as I'm about to kick him, the ringing phone provides a welcome diversion. Gale goes to answer, listens for a moment, then hangs up. "Delly. Peeta will be here in five minutes."

"Damn," I say. "Okay, let everyone in."

I'm standing in the kitchen, looking as normal as possible, trying to ignore the fact that about thirty people are jammed like sardines in tins around my living room. Haymitch is grunting loudly from behind a couch. "Hawthorne. Your. Butt. Is. In. My. Face."

Peeta walks in at this just as everything is silent once more. Perfect. Everything goes according to plan. "Hey, Katniss. How was your day—"

"SURPRISE!" everyone yells, jumping out from their hiding places. Peeta stumbles backwards a few steps in shock. As the throng sreads to every corner of the room, a loud call can be heard from behind the couch: "GALE! GET UP!"

Oh, great. Angry Haymitch. This party could get interesting. 


	8. Beetee, the Interior Decorator

"I'm not used to looking nice," I say, glancing down at the dress I'm wearing. We're all eating dinner in the living room.

"Well, none of us are. I mean, running around the Capitol in military gear isn't exactly glamorous," remarks Johanna.

"I felt like a giant dork running around with that suit on."

Everything falls silent for a moment before Beetee stands up. "Before we're all falling-down drunk, which, given that Haymitch is in attendance, will not take very long, I'd like to show Katniss and Peeta their special surprise." Before I know it, he has Peeta by one elbow, me by the other, and is dragging us off towards the stairs.

The door of Rose's room is closed. She's staying with my mother in Haymitch's house, along with Annie's son, having elected to avoid the drunk young people. Wise decision on her part.

Taking a deep breath, Beetee places a finger on the door handle and whips it open with a flourish.

I'm immediately shocked by what I see. Thousands of little white stud lights have been imbedded in the dark, inky-blue walls. It looks exactly like a night sky. Then, I notice that at waist height, the sky meets the ground. They painted the Meadow, lush, green, blooming with wildflowers, all around the walls of the room. There's new furniture, all matching, with a cherrywood finish. For a moment, I'm rendered absolutely speechless. Then I find my voice again. "Thank you. All of you. It's so beautiful," and I hug Beetee.

He grins. "One more room."

"Our BEDROOM?" Peeta exclaims incredulously as we stand in the doorway of what used to be our bedroom.

There's beautiful dark wood on the floors, deep red on the walls, a four-poster bed, and candles EVERYWHERE that bathe the room in a mystical, golden glow. There's an enormous bay window with a window seat and flowing red curtains. Even the bed has red linen draped across the posts. It's astonishing.

"I'll...leave you two alone to enjoy it," Beetee says, backing out and closing the door.

"Whoa, this could get intense," I say, looking into Peeta's bright blue eyes. I was never any good at being seductive, but it can't hurt to try. Besides, Peeta doesn't seem to mind; his lips are crushing to mine so tightly that it almost hurts. As we stand here, anchored to each other, we're oblivious to everything around us, even the loud shouts from "Pin the Tail on the Haymitch" and the out-of-tune drinking songs warbled by punch-drunk people as they make their way home.

We wake up in the morning, looking slightly embarrassed at ourselves, but the truth is that it's fun to let loose every once in a while. As Peeta and I dress ourselves, he looks at me and says, "You know, before sex we help each other get naked, but after sex we dress ourselves. I wonder if that's significant at all."

"Of course it is," I say. "The moral of the story is that in life, no one helps you once you're screwed."

We both crack up, then grab hands and go down to pick up Rose from my mother, ready to face our day—as a family. 


	9. Dandelions and Memories

A/N: Whoa, guys, sorry it's taken me so long. A few friends and I have been working our butts off on a new Harry Potter fanfic that should be up soon (yay!) Anyway, I figured I just wanted to end our story here and leave all the characters in a good place. I'm still super busy with school, so again, I'M SORRY it's taken so long for me to update! Thanks so much for reading, reviewing, and putting this story on alert. It means a lot to me. I would give you all unicorns if I could. Unfortunately, I can't, so I'll just stop talking and let you enjoy the conclusion. Love, EPC

It's late afternoon when I hear Rose crying from upstairs. Peeta's still at the bakery, so I reluctantly heave myself up off the couch and head for her room.

The twinkling lights shine brightly as I open the door, and shafts of light from the window cast strange shadows on the carpet. I go over to the crib and lift out Rosie, who quiets down immediately. But no matter how many times I walk her arond the room, soothing her gently, she's still fussing and squirming. I need a better plan.

I gaze out the window at District Twelve, seeing a few people ambling down the road on their afternoon walks, and suddenly an idea strikes me.

Still holding Rose, I dash downstairs, grope for a pencil and paper in one of the kitchen drawers, and scribble a note to Peeta. Then I carefully let myself out of the house.

It's relatively mild outside, and I breathe in deeply. Glancing around, I see no one, so I turn on my heel and stride off in the direction of the Meadow.

The Meadow is growing back quickly. Only a few spots of exposed dirt, rich with a deep, earthy scent, show that it's actually a mass graveyard. I hesitate a moment, then step into a patch of wildflowers.

All those familiar, comforting, woodsy scents come alive again here. If I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine again that it was just Gale and me, on one of our regular hunting trips of so long ago.

My eyes snap back open, and I realize my feet have acted of their own accord. I'm standing in the very center of the Meadow, in another patch of wildflowers. But this time, at my feet is a perfect yellow dandelion.

The flood of memories hits me like the tidal wave in the Quarter Quell arena. Peeta, staring at me from across the schoolyard, his eye blackened and puffy. Prim and I, scrounging around this very meadow for dandelions. And suddenly, I'm telling Rose everything about her namesake. How she got the best traits our family had. How she learned to look past the imperfections to the true beauty withing. How she was the only person I knew I could trust.

"Let me sing the song to you," I whisper to my daughter.

Deep in the meadow,

Under a willow,

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow.

Lay down your head and close your sleepy eyes,

And when again they open, the sun will rise.

Here it's safe, here it's warm,

here the daisies guard you from every harm.

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true.

Here is the place where I love you. 


	10. Possibly the Weirdest AN Ever Written

Hello, people of Earth, Jupiter, and Wisconsin. ExceedinglyPeculiarChick here, reassuring you all that I am, indeed, still alive. I just wanted to give you all a quick update, seeing as I haven't been on in a while. (By the way, I was reading some of the newer reviews for HITPWILY, and they made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Seriously, you guys are the best.)

I was looking at my traffic stats the other day for no apparent reason. Here's what I found: Here is the Place Where I Love You has 23,567 hits and 6,515 visitors after three months. Yay! :)

Now, I have an extremely important question for you all: what do you want to see me do next? Leave me suggestions in a review. I'll pick the three I can work with best and turn them into my new projects, since I really don't have anything else going at the moment except for a small Harry Potter oneshot. That should be up within the next few days or so, granted that my schedule stays relatively snag-free. I'm done with school on May 18th, so then I'll have more time to write. Double yay! :)

ANYWAY! That's that, so…leave me those suggestions! Stay in school! Don't do drugs! And allow me to tell one random joke my friend told me today!

"When I grow up, I want to have three kids. My first one will be a boy, and I'll name him Luke. That way, my husband can do a lot of heavy breathing all the time and go, 'Luke, I am your father.' I want my second child to be a daughter that I'll name Narnia. When I buy her things, I can yell, 'FOR NARNIA!' My final kid will also be a boy, named Sparta. So, when I introduce him, I can say, 'THIS…IS…SPARTAAAAA!'"

(P.S.—It's 12:53 A.M. Please excuse my randomness. I promise you I am not retarded…well, at least not all the time.) 


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